Misanthropy

I think the only good that ever came out of humanity was music.

Everywhere you look, there’s the disgusting taint that humans leave everywhere they go. There’s pollution, there’s murder, there are endangered animals, the list goes on. The arts are the only good thing that humankind ever produced, especially music.

When you play a song, you can feel the emotion radiate from instruments and voices. Music is the way to say what you feel and there’s no judgment. It doesn’t harm anyone in any way. It soothes rather than injuries, which is something that humans can’t comprehend. Whether it be intentionally or unintentionally, people hurt each other in many ways.

That’s why I spent as much money as necessary to learn all of the instruments I could. I wasn’t extraordinary in any of them, but I preferred to think of myself as a jack of all trades, master of none. I was very good at drawing, but I was nothing special. At my old school, I always saw students’ art and it was astounding. That is the only nice thing I would say about anyone.

So that explains why I was sat at home, cross-legged on the floor with a notepad in front of me and an acoustic guitar on my lap. I would strum random chords and write down whatever sounded good at the time. This was the only time I was at peace. I know I sound idiotic, but my mood sours when I’m around people. When I’m alone, I can finally be calm.

I hum along with my strumming, thinking of lyrics to go with the chord progression I wrote. I stuck the pick between my teeth as I scribbled on the notepad. Suddenly, my peace is disturbed by my phone ringing. “Motherfucker!” I snarl as I grab my phone.

I look at the caller ID, seeing a person I did not want to talk to at the present time. “Nope,” I
pop the “p” as I throw the phone onto my bed.

I try to turn my attention back to my guitar and notepad, only to be interrupted by my phone yet again. I knew that if I didn’t answer that he would keep bothering me until I gave in. I answer the phone, snapping a hello. There was a sigh on the other side, “I wish you would stop being mean to me.”

“Well, I wish you would stop calling me,” I chirp in a sickly-sweet tone before dropping back to my regular voice. “What do you want Jared?”

“Hazel, I am your uncle and your sole guardian,” he scolds. “It is my job to call to check in on you.”

“I don’t need anyone checking in on me. I’m fine,” I insist, setting my guitar next to me as I realized that-sadly-this was going to be a long conversation.

I could picture him right now, running his fingers through his graying black hair, a worried expression on his tired face and his lanky body sunk into a chair. He was always worrying about me for no reason. “You know I worry about you…” he mumbles. “Ever since that happened-“

I cut him off, “Did you forget the deal we made? We do not speak of that.”

I hear him sigh again, “Fine, you’re right, I’m sorry. Have you at least made any friends?”

Rolling my eyes, I reply with as much sarcasm as I could muster, “Oh yes, and it’s a field of sunshine and daisies.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” he says after a moment of silence. “Come on Hazel, you should at least try-“

I cut him off once more, “I don’t need friends. I don’t need anyone around me.”

“What about family?”

My jaw clenched as I let out a growl, “Don’t even go there, Jared.”

“Everyone needs at least one person to confide in,” he protested, trying to get me to understand what he was saying.

Oh, I knew exactly what he was saying, but I was having none of it. “I’ve tried that in the past,” I insist. “And look where that got me. I tried and failed, and you expect me to get up and trust people again?”

“Not everyone is like them, Hazel,” Jared murmured softly. I could imagine the sadness on his face. It made me gag.

“You may be right,” I run my fingers through my hair. “But that’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

I hang up the phone, throwing it down beside me. I could feel a slight tremor begin in my hands. “Fuck,” I mumbled as I clenched my fists, trying to calm the shaking.

When the shaking grew worse, I rush over to my dresser, opening a bottle of pills, popping a couple in my mouth. I let out a shaky breath as I laid down on my bed. I really did not need him to bring up all of that bullshit. It was in the past, and it was going to stay there unless I said so. He knows better than to bring up that crap. My mind began to clear up as the pills took effect, allowing me to sit in an upright position.

After a few moments, I began to laugh softly. Imagine someone like Alex seeing me like that. He would never let it down. He would tell everyone that I was weak, and I was pathetic. Why wouldn’t he? I would if I had friends and saw someone who treated me like shit shaking like I was. I had to stay in control. I couldn’t let my past haunt me. That was the last thing I wanted. I just wanted to be alone, which was better for everyone involved.

I leaned over the edge of the bed to pick up my guitar and notepad off the floor, feeling inspiration radiate throughout my body. As I brought the guitar back to my lap, words ran through my mind faster than I could write them. I could hear the scribbling of the pencil against the paper, knowing that the harsh strokes were because of my stupid emotions. I could hear the song playing out in my head. It was a strong melody with even stronger words. It was sarcastic and cynical, just like me. As I managed to get all of the words down, I began to strum the melody that was radiating through my mind.

Notes